


Life In Reverse

by thisisapaige



Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (aka Dean killed Crowely pre-fic), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Divergence after, Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, One Shot, Season/Series 10, Suicidal Ideation, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige
Summary: (For Suptober20. Day 25 Prompt: Villian)⁂The King of Hell was dead. Ever since then, Castiel had more bodies, more evidence to follow.Which was why he was standing before a cabin in the middle of a Washington forest, devoid of any human life, staring at the empty carcass of what was once Dean's Baby.Castiel was running out of time. His angel blade close at hand-- though he prayed he need not use it-- Castiel climbed the rotting steps of the cabin's porch and opened the door. He stepped into an old kitchen, the appliances long since ripped out of their places and sold for parts. Empty liquor bottles covered the countertops, hiding the broken tiles. This was not a place a human could live but, Castiel realized with a pang in his heart, Dean was not exactly human anymore.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950343
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Life In Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> Intead of handing the First Blade to Cas at the end of 10x14, Dean just runs of into the night. Sam and Cas try to find him.  
> [A link to my Tumblr!](https://thisisapaige.tumblr.com/)

The hollowed out Impala told Castiel everything he needed to know.

Dean had done well over the past year. He was always a half-step ahead of Sam and Castiel, always keeping an escape plan in mind, and, the few times he stumbled, he was able to improvise himself out of a tight spot. He chose carefully: monsters, murders, criminals. Becoming a sort of vigilante, Dean had made the best of a bad situation. He was always a hero at heart.

It was clear, however, that the Mark's hunger had grown.

The King of Hell was dead. Ever since then, Castiel had more bodies, more evidence to follow.

Which was why he was standing before a cabin in the middle of a Washington forest, devoid of any human life, staring at the empty carcass of what was once Dean's Baby. 

Castiel was running out of time. His angel blade close at hand-- though he prayed he need not use it-- Castiel climbed the rotting steps of the cabin's porch and opened the door. He stepped into an old kitchen, the appliances long since ripped out of their places and sold for parts. Empty liquor bottles covered the countertops, hiding the broken tiles. This was not a place a human could live but, Castiel realized with a pang in his heart, Dean was not exactly human anymore.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, his hand curled around an empty beer bottle, was Dean. He did not look up at Castiel's entrance.

"Well, here we go again." Dean put the bottle to his lips, sighing when he remembered it was empty. "When are you gonna figure out I'm the villain of this story?"

"You're not," Castiel said.

"Yeah." Dean shook his head, staring down the neck of the bottle. "Tell that to all the dead people."

"If you'd just listen--"

"Listen to what, Cas? I tried, you know? I tried to fight it but--" He touched his arm, the red sleeve of his shirt hiding the Mark underneath. "This is it."

"We'll find another way, Dean," Castiel said, moving further into the room until all that was between him and Dean was the kitchen island. "There's always another way. Sam's been researching and he thinks--"

"You still think you can save me, even now?" Dean snorted. "C'mon, Cas, I know you've been tracking me this whole time. I know you've seen everything I did."

"I have faith."

"Hate to break it to you, Cas, but God doesn't give a shit."

"I didn't say it was in God."

That comment made Dean look up. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his skin had a sickly sheen to it, and his eyes were nearly lost in the dark circles around them. There was smoke forming behind those eyes. They were still green, however. Castiel could still see the man, the person, the individual behind them. As long as there was a single shred of hope, a last dreg of humanity left in those eyes, Castiel would not give up.

When Dean met Castiel's eyes, his jaw dropped open. "Wait. You look different."

Castiel checked his shoes, looked at his pants, and smoothed down the front of his trench coat. "I appear the same as ever."

"No. No, you don't. You--" Dean stepped forward and leaned closer to Castiel. "You got a bunch of eyes and, like"-- His eyes flitted around Castiel's head-- "a bunch of heads. Is that a deer?"

Yes, Castiel was correct: Dean was not quite human anymore. They were running out of time.

"An impala, actually." Castiel blinked with all his eyes. Dean watched the movement with wide-eyed wonder. "You're seeing my true form."

"Whoa." For a moment, Dean's burden lifted and he was a man again, talking to his best friend. "You're telling me you've been walking around like that this whole time?"

With Dean's eyes on him like that, with the way he could see Castiel's innermost being, Castiel, for the first time in his long existence, blushed.

"I'm not quite as luminescent these days." Castiel pointed to the left of his head. "The lion has been sleeping for years." 

"Still, dude, that's pretty cool."

The cabin lapsed into silence. The little sun that made it past the overcast sky, through the forest's trees, and into the kitchen window cast the room in an eerie grey glow. The smoke behind Dean's eyes swirled.

"Cas? I, uh--" Dean crossed his arms and stared down at the bottles scattered over the kitchen island. "I'm not supposed to be able to see that, huh?"

"No," Castiel said.

Dean rubbed his arms, rubbed the mark under his clothes. "What's gonna happen to me?"

Dean was turning into something, something demonic, something the world had not seen since Cain. Castiel did not say that. It did not matter. It did not matter because--

"I'm going to save you," Castiel said.

Dean laughed, high and humourless. "I wish I had your faith."

"Don't worry. I have enough for both of us." 

When Castiel tried to move around the island, Dean skittered back as far as he could go. He pressed his back tight against the counter behind him, his hands flat against the lower cabinets. 

"Don't!" Dean shouted, eyes wild, words desperate. "Don't come any closer."

"Dean." Castiel remained behind the island but his hands itched to soothe the tension in Dean's body. "What's wrong?" 

"I'm living his life in reverse. First-- first Crowley then, then…" Dean froze. After a long deliberate silence, Dean relaxed. He spoke slowly, calmly. "You're very powerful, angel."

Instantly, Castiel was at attention. He dropped his blade into his hand and rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet. While he was prepared for a fight, Castiel was not ready.

"That demon was just a snack but you…" Dean titled his head back, just enough so he could look down at Castiel, and licked his lips. "I think you'd be a whole meal."

"That's not you talking," Castiel said, fast, frantic, "it's the Mark."

The Mark on Dean's arm glowed. The First Blade appeared in his hand. The shadows in Dean's eyes swirled to the front, turning them black. Dean smirked.

Dean raised the blade. "When are you gonna figure out I'm the villain of this story?"

In one fluid, fast movement, Dean leapt over the kitchen island-- not a single bottle rattled-- and landed right before Castiel. Dean ran the edge of his blade over Castiel’s body, soft and teasing, from belt to chest. 

Castiel’s weapon went slack in his hand. He did not want to use it. The thought of pushing the angel blade through Dean’s chest brought back the image of a warehouse floor covered in bodies, all wearing the same face. 

The angel blade clattered against the floor.

Dean pushed the point of the First Blade against Castiel’s chin, forcing his head back. “Not even a fight? Guess I was wrong.”

“I won’t hurt you, Dean.”

“Why not? I’d hurt you. Shit, I have.”

Castiel looked down at the First Blade. It shook in Dean’s hand. Castiel peered beyond the hand and stared right into Dean’s eyes. They were green, with no smoke to be found.

“You want me to fight you,” Castiel said, realizing the truth as he spoke. “You want me to hurt you.”

“I want you to kill me, Cas.” Tears welled in Dean’s eyes. “This all could have been avoided if you had tossed me into the sun when I asked.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s arm, laying his palm over the Mark. “Not when I can still save you.”

“Cas. You gotta finish me off, man.” Dean’s hand trembled; the edge of the Blade scratched Castiel’s skin. “You have no idea how hard it is to keep from slitting your throat.”

Castiel used his other hand to wipe away the tear on Dean’s cheek, the pad of his thumb rasping over the stubble. “You deserved to be saved.”

Sam believed it would work. He was adamant about it, in fact. Castiel was not so sure. While he was certain the connection was true on his end, he had no way of knowing if it were the same for Dean. As long as there was a hint of the man, of the person, of the soul Castiel loved behind Dean’s eyes, Castiel would have to try.

He gathered all his power, all his grace, all his being, into his palm. Every piece and part of Castiel, every ounce of his love, surged from his core and into Dean.   
  
Castiel opened all his eyes. The lion roared. 

The Mark burned. 

⁂

“Cas. Cas. C’mon, buddy, wake up.”

Castiel opened his eyes. All two of them.

“There we go. Just like that.”

A strong arm was wrapped around Castiel’s shoulder. A warm hand rested on his chest. A pair of legs supported his back. 

The moment Castiel recognized the cabin, remembered the person holding him, he reached out and grabbed Dean’s arm, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow.

Nothing but smooth, clean skin. Castiel ran his finger over it, sighing in relief. 

“It worked,” Castiel breathed.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “After your little light show, it was just poof! Gone!”

“It worked.” If Castiel said it again, perhaps he could process it all.

“Sure did, buddy. What did you do?”

In an old obscure shelf hidden in the deepest recess of the Men of Letters Bunker, Sam found a book. In it, there was a depiction of the Mark of Cain. The scholar theorized that, as the Mark of Cain was a symbol of hate and darkness, an equal and opposite force, like the light of an angel’s love, could counteract it. The theory was never tested, however, because the force of darkness and the force of light had to have a connection, had to feel for one another. 

In short, Sam was correct. Dean did love Castiel back.

Still holding Dean’s arm-- his human, unmarked arm-- Castiel sat up. His joints ached and his head hurt and his stomach felt hollow but none of that mattered. Castiel placed a hand upon Dean’s cheek and gazed into Dean’s eyes, his bright green eyes free of smoke.

“I used my grace to burn the Mark from your soul.” Castiel blinked with two eyes. “They’re both gone now.”

“Wait. Wait.” Dean’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me you’re human now?”

“Completely.” Castiel’s thumb ran circles over the skin on Dean’s forearm. “We both are.”

Dean stared at Castiel. He said nothing. He did not move. 

It was clear Dean did not know how to react. Castiel did. He leaned forward and left a soft kiss on Dean’s lips. Castiel whispered against them.

“Dean Winchester is saved."


End file.
